


Ovipositive

by Germindis, LucyRed



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Underfell, Body Horror, EGEES EGES EGS EGS, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), Ectobiology, Eggs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Pregnancy, Fucking Machines, Horror, Omorashi, Other, Oviposition, Psychological Horror, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Underfell Sans, Underfell W. D. Gaster, Verbal Abuse, meant to be read by absolute monstrous garbage only, super gross, time for eggs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Germindis/pseuds/Germindis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucyRed/pseuds/LucyRed
Summary: Gaster has a new machine, and Sans is the test subject. Set in Underfell. More horrifying kinks than you can shake a stick at, featuring involuntary breeding experiments and guest starring eggs.Please read the tags and take care of yourself; don't read things that gonna be a bad plan, man. If you're way into bad plans, then come on in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i heard some people wanted ovipositors
> 
> check the end note for warnings for the chapter.

Well this was a fucking mess.

Sans hadn’t joined the research program to practice his sweeping skills, but that’s where he had ended up anyways, sweeping up the remains of subject number two. His annoyed grimace hid it well, but inwardly he was shaken up by seeing how the monster had met their end. Well...he’d sort of seen it. Most of it. He’d been there for the...the preliminary testing and the trial runs and the _screaming_ , fuck, the _screaming_ …

He rolled back one shoulder in a semblance of a shrug to mask the shiver that wanted to crawl down his spine. Whatever. That monster had been marked for execution or something anyways, right? Right.

Life Underground had taken its toll on monsterkind over the years, and monsters were dying out faster than they were being born. Every other scientific pursuit had been put on hold for an intensive study of monster reproduction. A breeding program.

No other part of the program, however, involved a machine like the one in this room. Sans gave it a sidelong glance as he swept. Over-sized tubing stretched out of it like grasping tentacles, latching onto the walls and making the room claustrophobic. The main structure of the machine was huge and somewhat skull-shaped, with dips on the topside that looked like eye sockets. Rather than humanize it (so to speak), the machine’s ‘face’ only made it look more sinister.

Then again, probably nothing could soften its image. With the other breeding programs, at least, monsters were essentially being paid by the king to come to the labs and fuck. They had to let the scientists watch and take notes, but it still wasn’t the worst fate Sans could imagine in the Underground.

This machine, on the other hand...the built-in restraints told a part of the story. The cruel, pointed shape of the hooked insertion device sticking out of the machine’s underbelly told the rest. It looked like an upside-down scorpion stinger, ready to strike. Sans had never seen anything so barbaric and invasive.  

While Sans was distracted from his sweeping, his foot nudged something gooey and greenish. He shuddered before turning the broom upside down and poking it sharply. It crumbled to dust a second later. He breathed a sigh. This whole situation was fucked up. He’d been hoping to work on something like breaching the barrier, but no, it had been postponed along with everything else for...for this. So Sans was stuck here on cleanup duty. Late at night.

With Gaster.

Before, Sans had traded shifts around like crazy to avoid working with Gaster, but this time it had been unavoidable.

Sans’s shoulders lifted slightly in apprehension as the room doors slid open and the mess of a scientist loped in, murmuring to himself. Sans turned his back and hurriedly began sweeping the rest of the remains into the dustbin, trying to stay unnoticed.

He had no such luck. Gaster made his way to Sans in his slumped walk. Sans had yet to discover if Gaster’s hunch was due to age, bad posture, or just a slime monster thing. Some part of Gaster always seemed to be losing to gravity, melting toward the ground, but he never looked like he was missing anything. Half of the time, Sans was surprised the doctor still had both eyes, the way one always drooped. That was probably what became of Gaster’s nose.

None of it helped Gaster’s creep-factor. He also had a bad habit of talking directly into Sans’s ear, as though Sans wouldn’t be able to hear him at a more appropriate distance.

As Gaster slunk to Sans’ side now, he bore over him at his usual uncomfortable proximity.

“Did you find any surviving eggs, at least?”

Oh fuck, was Sans supposed to _salvage_ those squishy dust-covered things?

“...uh, n...n-no. nope. none.” Sans ducked down to pick up the dustpan, moving over to the bin to dump it.

Gaster grabbed the wrist holding the pan, halting him.

“Hm.”

His face was so close that his breath blew on Sans’s ear when he exhaled. The slight tickle of it was just distracting enough for it to take Sans an extra second to notice the doctor reaching a finger into the dustpan and sliding it across the surface. His finger came up sticky. He gave Sans a look that could have been accusatory or questioning.

Sans gave a weak shrug in response, eyes flitting towards the door.

There was something about the way Gaster tapped his foot. It wasn’t a sharp clack, more of a dull thump, like a heartbeat.

“I suppose the residue makes it harder to clean up, doesn’t it? It’s a shame we lost them all again...don’t you think so?”

Gaster still hadn’t let go of Sans’s wrist. Did Sans imagine it, or did Gaster’s other hand briefly brush his waist?

“...doc, it’s...kinda late…” Sans hinted, shifting one foot back.

“What? Oh...yes, of course. Go on then.”

Before Sans could reach the exit, though, Gaster manifested a third hand that grabbed Sans’s right ankle and bent his leg up.

“ _whoa!_ ” Sans swore and grabbed at the edge of the door with both hands, barely keeping himself upright. The doctor licked a finger and slid it along the underside of Sans’s shoe. It left a clean stripe through a layer of gritty dust.

“A broom was a poor choice. The eggs make the dust stick, and it’s not good to go trailing this all over the lab. Make sure you tell the next shift to take a mop to this floor.”

“ _okay got it, doc!_ ” How many hands did this freak show have?

Gaster released Sans’s ankle.

“Have a good night, Sans.”

“yeah.” Sans muttered, shaking out his leg a bit as he walked away. Fuck that guy.

Once in the employee office, the sound of papers shuffling was the first clue that Sans was not the only assistant working at this hour. In a dark corner he could see the lizard, Falena, her luminescent yellow eyes roving over something at her desk. Probably a report on how the latest subject died. She was usually the one to handle the ‘emotionally compromising’ reports like that. Sans didn’t think it was wise to let her handle the letters to next of kin, but she did that too.

Maybe Gaster got a sick kick out of knowing that the death of his victims would be documented in the most heartless way possible. Who the fuck knew.

Normally, Sans loathed to talk to her, but he still had some paperwork to do before leaving. And for some reason, the idea of silence was bothering him.

“....hey.”

The green, scaly monster glanced up, her slitted eyes narrowing just slightly. “...hm. Working late, were we?” She turned her attention back down.

That was more words than she usually spared towards him. Wasn’t tonight just exciting.

Sans booted up his old desktop computer and waited for it to load. When he’d opened a file to type today’s report, though, he just stared at the blank document. He couldn’t quite distract himself with bureaucratic minutiae when the sensation of a jelly-like egg quivering at the touch of his shoe was still so vividly playing in his mind. Conversation was better than nothing.

“so...dr. gaster, huh?”

“...yes. The man who runs this program. What about him?”

“well, you know his…the way he...” Sans trailed off. Falena didn’t seem like the type to enjoy gossip, but surely all of the assistants had exchanged a complaint about Gaster at one point or another. “...the guy doesn’t have a lot of personal space, does he?”

Falena looked up at him again, her tail swishing to her side, “...hm.” She raised an eyebrow.

That was about as much as he expected. His brain told his hands to start typing, but instead his mouth moved again while his hands didn’t.

“look, i know you’ve got the whole femme fatale thing going for you, but even you can admit he’s creepy. i mean, talking an inch away from your face all the time is one thing...lotsa old people do that, i guess? but licking other people’s shoes is pretty weird, right?”

“.............................yes.” Falena gave a short hum, but Sans couldn't tell if it was in interest or boredom. “It’s very common behavior for him. You have nothing to be concerned about,” she said, not wavering from her usual monotone. She turned her head back down, and Sans could no longer gauge her expression. Not that it had been easy before.

Sans kept staring at her with his mouth slightly open. He closed it and ducked his head back to his work, feigning interest in the blank screen. When his fingers almost came down on the keys for a third time, he paused again.

Words tumbled out of him.

“yeah, okay, so. that’s something he does a lot. sure. you don’t ever feel like you don’t want to, i dunno…”

Sans’s mouth stayed open for a moment too long, going dry. Was he really going to say this out loud?

“you don’t ever feel like you shouldn’t...be working with him alone?”

Falena snorted, an especially rude response considering how rarely the lizard laughed. “Are you scared of him, Sans?” She asked, just a slight taunt in her voice.

Sans coughed.

“i don’t mean _me_ , i’m not—” he tripped over his words, flustered. “you don’t—?”

He took another look at Falena’s face. Her eyes were cold, desolate. He'd fucked up. Falena was obviously a monster who could take care of herself, so of course she'd see it that way. The only reason Sans could have to even bring up Gaster’s behavior was—

It served him right for trying to commiserate with someone like her. He’d only made himself look weak. He went back to staring at his computer, avoiding Falena’s amused gaze and unable to come up with a good way to defend his own stupidity.

“Perhaps you should reconsider your career choice, Sans, if our employer ‘creeps you out’ so much that you’re frightened for yourself.” She chuckled.

Sans angrily slapped a hand on his keyboard, finally starting his report with a ‘ggjgfjh’ that perfectly described the events of the night.

“goddammit, i’m not—!”

He rubbed his forehead with his other hand.

“i’m not scared of him, all right? but i guess i do think he could be dangerous. you know, for…”

You? Other monsters? Weaker monsters? None of those things were a good way to end that thought, so he let himself trail off.

“nevermind. i’ve got work to do,” he said grumpily, as though Falena had been the one interrupting him.

“Oh, do you? I was under a different impression.” Falena snapped back, her tail thrashing slightly in spite of the smirk in her eyes.

Sans was stuck with Falena and her judging aura for the rest of his late shift. Either she lived in the office, workaholic that she was, she fed off his discomfort, or both. Sans was so focused on avoiding her attention that his report remained unedited jibberish. Fuck it. Gaster probably wouldn't read it anyway. Sans hardly had an important role in the project.

 

Sans tried to rub his eye socket as he woke up, but his hand wouldn’t move. He blinked away sleep, and it gradually became clear what the problem was.

He was being suspended by his arms and legs, his limbs swallowed by restraints all the way up to his elbow and knee joints. His extremities were confined in some kind of soft leather cuffs, those cuffs secured with straps to something above him. The sleeves of Sans’s lab coat were rolled all the way up his arms, the coat the only piece of clothing he still had on.

Sans gave a jolt, making him swing in the restraints. His neck and waist were being supported by thicker straps, which allowed him to swing back and forth slightly, but that was about it. Above him, where the straps were all attached, was the underbelly of a giant machine.

 _The_ machine.

Sans hadn’t quite worked his way past shock to denial, much less any further, but he raised his head to look over his chest and through his spread legs. He had to know for sure.

Sure enough, there was the sharp, pointed instrument meant to deposit the eggs inside of test subjects.

Sans gave another panicked jolt in the bonds, a noise coming out of his throat like a cat dying. He heard a dull shuffling and whipped his head to the side to see Dr. Gaster entering the room, looking pleased.

Sans stayed silent as Gaster walked up to stand between his suspended legs and the pointed tip of the artificial ovipositor. Gaster didn’t waste any breath on explanations.

“Good morning, Sans. Now, you’re going to cooperate and make a vagina,” he held up a syringe, “or I’m going to have to force you to form one.”

Sans stared at him, still having some trouble comprehending. Eventually he sputtered out an, “excuse me?!”

Mentally, he hit himself over the head. There wasn't really room for misunderstanding. He was just buying time. Not that he was going anywhere.

“A vagina,” Gaster said simply, giving Sans’s pelvic bone a light, encouraging slap. “Go on.”

Sans jerked in place. “doc, let me down,” Sans tried to use as threatening a tone as he could muster. “i’m not one of your fucking guinea pigs. you can't do this to me!”

“True, using an assistant as a test subject is unorthodox,” Gaster said, walking around to Sans’s side and pulling over a pole with an IV bag hanging from it. Sans only then noticed the tube running through the sleeve of his lab coat, threaded through his ribs and inserted into his soul. Gaster flicked air bubbles to the top of the syringe and squirted them out.

“But you’re obligated to assist me in whatever ways or uses I deem necessary for the current projects. Just because it hasn’t been done doesn’t mean it won’t be.”

Gaster aimed the tip of the needle to a shorter tube on the IV bag.

“I want you to remember that I did give you the chance to cooperate with me.”

“g-go to hell..” It came out as more of a shaky whisper than the defiant yell that Sans had planned on, and he shuddered, gritting his teeth. Although he already had a feeling it would fail, he made an attempt to access his magic. His SOUL only gave a weak spark. Sans’s best guess was that something in the drip was also dulling his magic.

Gaster injected the liquid into the IV, then went back between Sans’s legs. He moved slowly, and before he’d settled in place, Sans already felt a hazy, pleasant warmth spreading through his bones. An insistent urge to manifest sexual magic overtook his body, focused by Gaster giving Sans’s pubic bone a gentle rub between thumb and forefinger.

“n-ngh…” Sans sputtered out a swear, clenching his fists as best he could, considering the restraints, “s-stop it!”

“But Sans,” Gaster smiled, the finger he’d been rubbing with now hugged between the lips of an already dripping vagina, “it appears you like it.”

Sans felt his face burning as he tried to thrash, only succeeding in making the tantalizing warmth worse, “g-gh...f-fuck…” He started breathing through his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You’re right, that was crude of me, I apologize.” Gaster swirled his finger around the hole before slowly inserting it. “This will certainly be easier on you if you relax and enjoy it, though.”

“ _h-ha!_  no! f-fuck!” Sans’s eyes widened, his eyelights shrinking to pinpricks as he started panicking. No, no no no this was _not_ happening this was _not happening to him_ , “d-doc, please!”

For the first time since he’d come in, Gaster raised his head and looked Sans fully in the eyes. His expression was muted, but he seemed to be considering something.

“Hm. You’re frightened. That’s normal.” He inserted a second finger and slowly inched both fingers in together, spreading them out. “It’s all right, Sans. I can make sure you’re prepared enough to minimize the pain.”

“i d-don’t care about the p-pain, you fucking creep!” Sans felt a threatening pressure in his throat and forced his eyes to narrow into a glare. He would _not_ cry. He wasn’t going to fucking cry. “get your hands o-offa me!”

Gaster’s head snapped up this time, and his expression darkened with impatience. He yanked his fingers out.

“If you don’t mind the pain, then I did have something else in mind to prepare you.”

Gaster’s hands settled on Sans’s hips, and two more manifested to stroke his thighs before gripping them.

“You’re small, and still very tight, so we’ll need to loosen you up regardless, before we can get the machine inside you.”

Sans heard the teeth of a zipper being undone, then felt the tip of a penis pressing between his legs.

His panic reached a new height and he started screaming, mostly swears at first. Then, in spite of himself, a _‘please doctor don’t_!’ slipped out, accompanied by a suspicious hitch of breath.

It seemed that was the only thing Gaster registered. As soon as the plea was out of his mouth, Sans felt the dick give an unmistakable throb of arousal against him in response. Gaster looked at Sans with a black lust that didn’t match the ridiculous features of his face at all.

The hands stroked Sans’s thighs again.

“Sans,” Gaster spoke in a voice so low it could barely be heard over Sans’s continued stream of curses. “You really are scared, aren’t you? It wouldn’t be professional of me to be spiteful, especially when this part can be made easier on you.”

Gaster licked the thumb of one of his hands, then lowered it to flick repeatedly at Sans’s clit, at the same time brushing the shaft of his dick along the lips of Sans’s cunt. Then Gaster drew back slightly, using the head of his dick to prod at Sans’s hole, playing with it. Sans’s hips gave an involuntary twinge of pleasure. His magic was urgently insisting to his body that this was what it needed, spamming signals to lubricate and grind against the gratifying warmth.

Sans moaned, his eyes half closing and rolling back as his pelvis reluctantly twitched upward, “u-uh...gh…” His mind was going blank.

“That’s it.” Gaster’s voice was a soft purr. “That’s good, Sans. You’re feeling very good right now, aren’t you?” He started to push forward. “You want this.” The head of the penis popped inside the opening of Sans’s cunt.

Sans gave a gargled, half-aroused, half-terrified moan, jolting again and shaking his head. “d-doc, p-please…” It was getting harder and harder to believe the mantra of ‘this isn't happening’ he had going in his head.

Gaster pushed forward further. When he was all the way in, he let out a relieved breath, as though he’d just applied a soothing cream to an itch. Sans twitched. The feeling of the penis fully inside him, of the girth stretching him, woke some of Sans’s senses, and the drug-induced arousal couldn’t totally mask his automatic revulsion.

The dick had the same slippery texture as the rest of Gaster’s skin, uncomfortably reminiscent of the unwashed skin of other flesh monsters. It felt like it was perpetually sweating slime, like globs of Gaster were coming off him to stick inside Sans. To stay there.

Gaster leaned lower over Sans as he entered him, until his face was closer to Sans’s rib cage. The position made it so that when Gaster spoke next, it was like he was whispering into Sans’s SOUL.

“You’re not fighting me as hard as I expected. Perhaps I was wrong in my first assessment of your interest. Tell me the truth: were you really resisting my authority because you hoped I would assert control of you like this?”

Sans felt his stomach lurch, “y-you’re f-fucking s-sick...you f-fucking _disgust me_ you s-sick piece of sh-shit…!”

After a pause, in which Gaster’s face was disturbingly neutral, his mouth stretched in a cold smirk.

“Not cute, Sans. What, no ‘please, doctor!’?”

He pumped his hips in a single hard thrust, making a lewd slapping sound as his groin smacked into Sans’s soft magic, and earning a grunt from Sans in response.

So Gaster had been getting off on that. Sans wasn't too surprised, after thinking about it for half a second. Of course he'd liked that. Fucking fuck…

Sans squeezed his eyes shut, silencing his heavy breathing and forcing himself not to make another sound.

Gaster started moving in slow, rolling thrusts that teased and stretched the walls of Sans’s cunt open. Sans’s magic was practically humming with heat from the treatment, giving small, eager contractions in anticipation of a harder pace, but Gaster kept the pace slow, his tone eerily conversational.

“Of course, that’s more along the lines of what I expected, considering how regularly you disrespect me at work. Talking behind my back, sneering at my appearance... _lying to my face when I ask you a simple question_.”

Sans gave no response to the accusations, just intensely studied the inside of his eyelids. Gaster kept his hand moving on Sans’s clit, more hands materializing to pet Sans’s exposed bones.

“h-hhh...hhhf..” Sans breathed through his teeth, shoulders arching along with his back. The strain on his arms and legs was starting to become painful, which at least served as a distraction from the hypnotic pleasure. A large part of him was begging for him to just give in - but if Gaster wanted his attention then he was determined not to give it.

Gaster gave Sans’s right leg an affectionate pat.

“Still, it didn’t take much to get you to put your legs up in the air and submit like a good boy, did it?”

Yeah, when he was knocked unconscious and given about half an inch of struggle room, that just made him wriggle his hips. Sans grit his teeth, feeling sweat drip down his brow.

“this's the only way you could get anybody to fuck you, huh?”

Gaster’s gaze dropped, but his mood didn’t. His focus turned intently to the place where his crotch was joined to Sans’s. He pulled out, slapped his dick against Sans’s pelvis, then reentered him. He let out a pleased groan.

“You can go on and say anything you like to me, Sans. Meanwhile, what will happen now is…” He gave another preparatory thrust. “I’m going to rape you, and you’re going to be brought to orgasm.”

“ _ghk!_ ” Sans jolted again, shaking his head. “n-no...oh g-god…”

One of Gaster’s hands quit its stroking on Sans’s sternum to lift his face by the chin, forcing him to look Gaster in the eye. Gaster’s smirk had broadened.

“Just remember that your words will have consequences when I’m finished with this. Besides, no matter what you tell me…” He stared warmly between Sans’s legs, stroking his thumbs on Sans’s inner thighs. “I’ll be able to feel your body begging me for completion.”

He began pumping inside in earnest. Sans’s whole body rocked in the bonds with each thrust.

Sans yelled, his fingers scratching at the inside of the bonds frantically as he felt his hips bucking up to meet Gaster’s. He couldn’t override the reaction—whatever drug was being pumped into his SOUL was only getting stronger, and he was already feeling worn out. His body wasn’t used to this, so it reacted to sex the same way it reacted to everything else: exhaustion.

A hand continued fingering Sans’s clit, working him up quickly as Gaster drove into him. When Gaster looked up and saw the energy waning in Sans’s eyes, he sent a hand to slip under Sans’s rib cage and massage his SOUL. It sparked, sending an intense spike of heat straight down Sans’s spine, making his cunt throb with need.

“h-hahh...nn-nh... _ghg!_ ” Sans’s head tilted back, and he climaxed with a yell that cracked and dissolved into sobbing.

Gaster slowed his pace back down to ease Sans through his release. Two hands cupped Sans’s face and pet his cheeks.

“There now, doesn’t that feel much better?” Gaster lowered two more hands to Sans’s crotch, worming fingers in to spread his vagina open wider. “You’re getting nice and relaxed down here.” He was still thrusting, moaning softly. “...a bit fast, though. Hmn...this will…”

Gaster started speeding back up, leaning more heavily over Sans.

“stop..” Sans didn't recognize his own voice. “ _stop_ f-for the l-love of g-god j-just s-stop…”

The hands kept petting Sans’s face consolingly.

“Easy, Sans. You don’t expect to be the only one who gets to enjoy himself, do you?”

After a few harder thrusts, Gaster’s dick gave a warning twitch inside of Sans.

“Ng...ah...I’m going to…”

Sans felt his gut twist, and there was a moment of panic. “w-wait don't-!”

The hands on Sans’s thighs gripped hard, Gaster’s form trembling over him. His breathing steadied, and he stopped thrusting.

“Hahh. Mm. Don’t worry, Sans. I have more self control than that.” He showed Sans a lopsided smile. “Now, where would you like me to cum?”

“n-not in me!” Sans choked out.

Sans heard an odd, huffy wheezing noise come out of Gaster. He was laughing. _Laughing_.

One of the hands petting Sans’s cheek gave it a gentle tap.

“Of course not, Sans. We’ve got work to do down here.”

He pulled out, shuffling around Sans’s side and stopping by his head. Now Gaster’s face was right above Sans, staring him down.

“Your face, then,” Gaster said, giving his cock a hard stroke.

Sans jerked reflexively, swearing and trying to pull his head away. “ _no!_  n-no no g-get the f-fuck away-!”

The hands that had been gently petting Sans’s face a moment ago now grabbed it tight, forcing him to look directly at the penis as Gaster tugged himself off.

“A-ah...ahhh…” Gaster bent over slightly, moaning his release as semen started to squirt over Sans’s face.

Sans shut his eyes, keeping his mouth shut and muffling his crying as cum dripped down his cheeks. He felt like puking. Gaster was still cumming, pressing the head of his penis against Sans’s right eye to finish himself off. He wiped himself off down Sans’s cheek, following a trail of tears.

“There...shh...it’s all right, that’s over…”

A thumb stroked Sans’s chin. Sans gave into childish anger and bit down hard on the appendage, feeling something give beneath his sharp teeth.

Gaster drew back his hand, minus one thumb, voicing only a dully surprised ‘ow’ in response to its absence. It regrew a second later. Sans felt something melting over his tongue. He spat it out quickly, heaving and trying to cough up spittle onto the floor.

Gaster regarded Sans’s disgust with amusement.

“Let that be a lesson to you, if I decide to put anything else in there.”

Sans gagged, shaking his head and spitting out more goop onto the floor. Some cum dripped into his mouth and he started heaving again. Gaster watched him a moment longer, still smiling, before he walked back to Sans’s pelvis.

“There’s no need to be so dramatic.”

Sans weakly murmured something that he hoped sounded along the lines of ‘go to hell’.

Gaster pulled over a tray of instruments, which Sans couldn’t see clearly. He picked up one, Sans’s view partially obstructed by his own raised legs. Gaster didn’t look at Sans as he spoke, instead focusing on the object in his hands.

“Remember that I told you there would be consequences for what you say to me. If you’re rude, this process can get significantly less pleasant.”

Sans felt something like metal prongs being inserted into the opening of his vagina. There was a ratcheting noise, and the prongs gradually stretched the hole, opening it up wider.

Sans gave a weak whimper of discomfort, torso twisting just slightly. “wh...wh-what are you d-doing…”

Gaster continued working, not looking up at Sans.

“I would think that was obvious. We’ve stretched you, but you’ve seen the width of the depositor. I’m preparing you for insertion.”

Sans was stretched opened further, more than he had been during sex, more than he thought should even be possible.

“ _gah!”_ Sans curled up his fists, his legs trembling with the urge to kick out, but unable to in their suffocating restraints, “nh!”

Gaster’s hands were back on him, too many of them, massaging his bones in gentle, soothing motions.

“There now,this is the easy part.”

He removed the pronged device, testing at Sans’s hole with his fingers. They scissored into Sans, then drew back out, apparently satisfied.

“That should be just fine.”

Sans's eyes fixated on the machine behind Gaster’s body, over his head. A frightened whimper escaped him.

Gaster gave Sans’s legs a poor imitation of a friendly slap.

“Shh. I’m sure you’re somewhat familiar with the process, but here’s how it will go.”

He motioned to the machine behind him.

“Once you’re properly set up, the device will stimulate you as it deposits a clutch of eggs. Each egg is about the size of your SOUL.”

A wandering hand brushed over the surface of Sans’s SOUL as Gaster spoke. Sans shuddered, swallowing and sucking in a breath.

“The normal size for a clutch is sixty eggs...for someone of your size, I had thought that we would test half a batch and see how it went, but that would take up a good deal of extra time.”

Gaster tilted his head.

“And, as I was saying about being careful about your rudeness, perhaps paying with that time is the best way to punish you. So, we’ll start with the full amount.”

Sans's eyes went wide, “that'll kill me.”

A hand pat Sans’s cheek.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t worry over that.” Another hand plucked at the tube coming from the IV bag. “With everything in your system now, you should be adequately prepared for it.”

Gaster moved to the machine as he talked, fiddling with a control panel.

“Once the eggs have incubated long enough inside you, a few weeks maybe, you’ll need to release them so that they can hatch outside of you. If they hatch inside, it will cause some complications.”

He pulled a lever, and the restraints holding Sans up were pulled into the machine’s belly above him, raising him closer to the level of the depositing device.

“The labor shouldn’t take more than an hour, but it may have to be induced, if it comes too late. One of the main problems with birth for this species is when the young hatch prematurely. They eat their way out of the womb.”

Sans's pupils contracted, and the sound of the machine starting up caused a sudden rush of warm liquid down his pelvis. He felt the magic between his legs dissipate, as well. He made no sound, aside from a weak cry that died out quickly in his throat.

When Gaster moved over to pull the depositor to Sans’s groin, he paused and looked the mess up and down.

“Hmph. How shameful. Are you a child, losing control of yourself like that?”

Sans just wheezed, starting to panic. He gasped in air desperately, his chest rising and falling rapidly, “no no no no no no no no no nonononono…”

Gaster went between Sans’s legs again, pulling the tray of instruments back over. He thumbed Sans’s now bare pubic bone.

“We’ll need this more permanently fixed.”

He rubbed it just enough to stimulate Sans’s vagina back into existence, then got to work giving a significantly quicker finger job than before. The fast preparation only won a small, aborted orgasm out of Sans’s exhausted body.

“There, how does that feel?”

Sans shook, the metal parts of his restraints rattling along with his bones.

“G-Gaster, p-please don't do this t-to me..”

Gaster was back to petting Sans, making hushing noises. He picked up something that looked like a staple gun from the tray.

“I’ll be easier on you if you behave like this,” he said, rocking Sans in his bonds like he was lulling him to sleep. He inserted the tip of the instrument shallowly into Sans’s vagina. “Unfortunately, this will hurt.” He pressed down, and Sans felt a sharp pierce go through his magic all the way to the bone of his sacrum.

Sans screamed, tearing up his throat and thrashing instinctively against the pain, “ _GAHH! d-doc p-please-!”_

Several hands gripped him, attempting to keep him still.

“If you thrash, it will only hurt worse.”

It stayed in for too long. Sans's whole world was focused into this single moment of unbearable, stinging pain until, finally, the instrument was pulled out, dripping raw magic from its tip.

“All done. The pain should fade over time.”

Sans gasped, his breathing shaking, “h-how l-long?”

A floating hand flicked the IV bag.

“Not long, given the content of the infusion. Perhaps a couple hours.”

He looked at Sans with a droopy half-smile.

“I could be persuaded to hold off the insertion of the machine for that long. If you were willing to apologize for your rudeness.”

“‘m s-sorry doc i’m s-sorry i’m really f-fucking s-scared and i’m _sorry!_ ”

The used instrument was dropped back on the tray with a clatter. Gaster looked unmoved.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that. What are you sorry for?”

“f-for being r-rude…”

A hand holding Sans’s face drew a finger under his jaw.

“Let’s hear the whole thing.”

“i...i-i’m s-sorry for b-being rude...”

Gaster leaned his face closer to Sans’s, his mouth sloping in what could have been a sneer, or could merely be the result of his constantly morphing features. He stuck his thumb inside of Sans’s vagina and lightly circled around the head of the nail embedded in Sans’s magic. Sans gave a weak cry of pain as the sore magic was rubbed.

“Is that really sincere, Sans? I don’t think you even remember what you’re apologizing for. Name one instance where you were rude to me, and perhaps I’ll forgive you.”

“d-d-d-doc p-please i c...i c-c-can’t r-really th-think s-straight r-right n-now g-g-gimmie a b-break, h-huh?!”

Gaster removed his hand and shook moisture from it, raising an eyebrow.

“More specific instruction, then? How about you start by apologizing for wetting yourself, seeing as I’ll have to clean all this up.”

Before Sans could answer, Gaster pulled the whirring, pointed end of the machine threateningly close.

Sans gasped. “i-i’m s-sorry i w…” He swallowed, turning his eyes down, “i-i’m s-sorry i w...w-wet m-myself…”

Gaster snorted, making Sans’s body jump a little in his bonds, thinking it still hadn’t been good enough. But a moment later, Gaster was hunched over and gripping his knees, erupting in deep, throaty laughter.

Sans fell silent, shutting his eyes and shivering. A black hole opening up in the floor underneath him would be an acceptable turn of events.

When Gaster recovered himself, he strode back to the tray and picked up a new syringe and a small vial of clear fluid. He inserted the needle and drew out the fluid, then turned back to Sans, patting his hand on Sans’s burning cheek.

“That’s much better, Sans.”

He held the tubing of the IV bag to the tip of the needle, injecting the fluid.

“Of course, I wouldn’t have started right away regardless. There’s a risk of infection if your fresh injury were irritated too much by the machine.”

Gaster stroked a thumb over Sans’s mouth.

“Have a good nap.”

Sans’s eyes narrowed and closed. Nice to know that that had been a complete waste of dignit……

 

Sans woke up to the sensation of Gaster carefully stretching his vagina, using the pronged device and fingering around inside.

“wh…” Sans felt dazed, like he was waking up from one nightmare into another.

“It looks like you’re all ready again. The magic's completely healed over the nail.”

Gaster yanked the humming depositor to point between San’s legs, lining up the tip with the opening of Sans’s cunt.

That snapped Sans back to reality. He started furiously tugging at his arm restraints, gasping and violently shaking his head, “no no no no _no no nonononono!_ ”

Gaster paused, the tip of the depositor left barely inserted, the only reminder it was about to go in a constant, stimulating buzzing. Gaster looked over Sans’s face.

He suddenly pulled the depositor away from Sans, who felt the echo of the machine’s buzzing, his hips twitching like it was still there. Gaster got up and went to the control panel.

“I’ll tell you what, Sans.”

He played with the controls, and the straps holding Sans suspended were lowered back down to their previous height. Gaster stepped between Sans’s raised legs and grabbed his thigh bones with two hands.

“This is all I really wanted. I only meant to shake you up a little.”

Two more hands closed around the crests of Sans’s pelvis and squeezed Sans’s hips against Gaster’s waist, so the lips of the cunt were brushing his clothes.

“Perhaps if you satisfy me well enough, I could forget this whole thing...let you go, and find a different test subject.”

Gaster’s expression resembled lidded bedroom eyes, but the asymmetry of his features hampered the effect somewhat.

“If you don’t want to do this, you could always beg me to make love to you again instead.”

“h…..h-h-how c-c-can i t-t-trust you…” Sans swallowed, his throat feeling unbearably dry, “wh-wh-what’s s-stopping you f-f-from d-doing th-this a-anyway n-n-no m-matter how h-hard i b-b-beg…?”

Gaster’s eyes were black holes.

“Nothing.”

“th….th-that’s n-n-not v-very p-promising, d-d-d-doc…”

The hands rubbed up and down Sans’s thighs.

“What kind of promises do you expect in this position? I don’t see that you have many other options. You could try cursing at me again, and see where the consequences of that take you.”

“n-n-not i-in the m-mood t-t-to try th-that again…” Sans squeezed his eyes shut, “wh-what’s the p-point in b-begging for s-something th-that...i m-mean i a-already know you’re g-gonna f-fuck me again a-anyway and i kn-know you’re n-not letting m-me go, d-doc, wh-what’s the _point_ …?”

“How about this, then? _You beg because I told you to beg_.”

Gaster gripped Sans’s hips tighter, pulling Sans away slightly before slamming Sans’s pelvis back into him, hard. Sans yelped.

“If you’re already thinking that far ahead, I suggest you appeal to my better nature while you’re at it.”

Sans’s breath hitched, “d-d-doc, p-please…” He begged, voice shaking badly, “p-please d…” He shut his eyes tightly, “...d-d-do wh-what y-you w-w-want, just d-d-don’t m-make me b-b-beg for it, p-please…”

Gaster raised an eyebrow.

“Hm. It was a thought.”

He let go of Sans’s pelvis, letting Sans swing in the restraints. As Gaster turned away to go back to the controls, one of his hands drew a finger from Sans’s chin up his cheek.

“Perhaps you’ll change your mind once we get started.”

He raised Sans’s suspension once more, yanking the depositor over and shoving the tip inside of Sans.

“ _gh_! n-n-no no no no o-oh god…” Sans’s breath hitched again and he held as still as possible, quivering badly, “d-d-doc, p-please…”

Gaster gave a derisive snort.

“Please what, Sans?”

He slipped fingers between the tip of the machine and the lips of the vagina, stretching it to fit more in. He wiggled the tip, and it slipped in deeper.

“What is it you’re asking me for, exactly?”

Sans swallowed, “....i…” That was a pretty good question. Begging for Gaster to fuck him instead would only delay the inevitable. “...i-i c-can’t do s-sixty…”

That earned a wry smile.

“Rather defeatist, aren’t you? And here I was thinking you might still be begging me not to do this. It’s only been a few hours, and I already miss the old, innocent you.”

He worked the depositor in until the hole in the tip was completely inside of Sans’s vagina. When it was in, Gaster gave a testing tug.

“That seems snug enough.”

He pat Sans’s pelvis affectionately.

“i c-c-can’t...i c-can’t…” Sans’s breathing started picking up again. At least this way he would die...that was better, right?

Gaster snapped a finger, and several of his hands took over the controls behind him, freeing him to walk up to Sans’s head and look in his eyes.

“Relax. We can go to thirty and see how you’re feeling then, shall we?”

A hand yanked a long lever, and the depositor shook harder and began to move. It gave a first, rickety thrust forward. Sans gave a sharp cry of pain, digging his nails into the leather surrounding his hands and making a frantic attempt to kick his legs free.

As the machine started to pull back, a hand tugged on Sans’s chin, forcing him to look at Gaster.

“Breathe in deep and exhale slowly. It will hurt less that way. You should be prepared enough that the depositor itself won’t cause you trouble.”

The tip drawing back pulled the lips of Sans’s cunt with it, his vagina hugging the machine, despite the pain.

“i can’t...i c-can’t i c-can’t calm d-down…” Sans struggled to follow the doctor’s advice, holding his breath and then trying to let it out slowly, but it came out in a rush. “i c-can’t i can’t i c-can’t…!”

Some of Gaster’s hands brushed lightly on Sans’s bones.

“Do you want me to help you, Sans?”

The machine gave another rough thrust. Sans screamed. If not for the IV in his SOUL, he wasn’t sure he would be alive.

“Well, Sans?”

“h-h-how…?!”

Gaster frowned.

“A ‘please’ would be better.”

The hands brushing against Sans took hold of him at once and pushed him forward to meet the thrusting of the machine.

“ _gah!_  p-please!” Sans forced out, breathing through his teeth and trying not to fight Gaster’s hold, for fear of angering the doctor again.

The lever was pushed back up, and the machine slowed to a halt.

“Better.”

Gaster reached two hands inside Sans’s ribs and stroked briefly over his SOUL, then took it in both hands and began to massage it with his thumbs.

“Breathe slowly. You handled sex fine. Making love to the machine shouldn’t be so much worse.”

“h-h-hurts…” Sans’s panicked tone was forcibly relaxed away as Gaster massaged his SOUL. His wide eyes slowly started to close as he leaned his head against one of Gaster’s arms.

“There we go. Shh, it shouldn’t be hurting yet. Breathe in and out as I count. 1…”

Sans made a wheezing sound that may have either been him breathing in or dying of asphyxiation.

The thumbs moved in gentle circles. Even though it was no longer moving, the buzzing of the machine still inside Sans cut into the dreamy calm that was pulsing through the massaging hands.

“Easy. Breathe out. 2…”

“..h-hff…” Sans’s eyes closed completely, and he leaned into the hand on his cheek, ignoring the gooey texture and breathing out slowly.

The hand pet him. Gaster’s voice grew soft.

“Yes, Sans. That’s good. That’s very good. Breathe in, 3…”

Sans obeyed, his chest rising and falling slowly, steadily.

“All right. There we go. I’m going to start the machine again, and you’ll be fine.”

“yes, doctor.”

Gaster’s smile grew.

“Good.”

He pulled the lever, and the depositor whirred back to life, giving its starting thrust again. It was forceful, but no longer felt sharp.

“a-ah! hhgg…” Sans squirmed, his expression twisting, “ngh…”

The hands were still kneading his soul. Another slid between his legs to pet at his clit, so the next thrust of the machine made a squirting sound as it drove in.

“o-oh f…” Sans’s back arched slightly, “u-uh…”

“That’s right. It’s all right. You can enjoy this.”

After the first few rough thrusts, the machine got to pumping in and out of him. Sans groaned, not even noticing when his hips started bucking up to meet the machine.

“You do paint a pretty picture like this. How does that feel, Sans?”

“ngh...d...d-dunno…”

Gaster’s voice stayed soft, but his hand moved faster on Sans’s clit.

“Sans. Do you remember how you asked me to lower the count from sixty to thirty?”

“y-yes doc…”

The hands at the controls clicked at the panel, and the pace sped up, the thrusting of the machine’s artificial organ bouncing Sans’s hips with each push.

“If you want to persuade me, I suggest you give me appropriate answers to questions.”

The hand between Sans’s legs flicked at him.

“wh-?!” Sans cried out, his head tilting back, and his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted, groaning.

“And when I see you fucking my machine like a dog in heat, I expect you to give me an honest answer.”

“i-i-i’m sorry..!” He cut himself off with a moan, squeezing his eyes shut, “f-fuck…”

Gaster tweaked Sans’s clit, building up an intense pressure at Sans’s groin. The tip of the machine had gotten wet enough to slip in as it continued pumping.

“ _How does that feel, Sans?_ ”

“ _gghhh!_ f-feels g-good!” Sans choked out, his chest rising and falling more rapidly again as he started to get worked up, “o-oh g-god…”

“Do you want to cum?”

“wh...n-ngh…” Sans gave a yelp, throwing his hips up further, “n-no!”

Gaster stroked two hands down Sans’s face, brushing him with his knuckles.

“You get points for being honest, at least.”

But his hand hadn’t stopped moving over Sans’s clit, rolling his thumb against it with each pump of the machine.

“Unfortunately, you may dislike the reward. The wetter you are, the easier the eggs will go in. We’ll need you to cum again.”

He pressed firmly into Sans’s groin.

“ _gahno!_  i-it’ll h-hurt again!” Sans screamed shortly after his protest. He felt his vaginal walls clench hard as he finished, his cunt slick, spent, and oversensitive. “n-no...” He groaned, going limp and struggling to catch his breath.

The hands moved at the control panel, and the machine slowed back down to a more regular pumping.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be rough.”

Sans could hear rattling coming from the throat of the depositor. Through the clear instrument, he could see the first egg roll into the tubing and make its way to the tip.

“h-hff..h-hhff...n...n-no...nono…” Sans shut his eyes, as if not seeing it would make it not happen.

The sensation, however, was unavoidable. A cold, wet jelly pressed inside the opening of Sans’s vagina, squeezing in with a sick pop. Sans jolted, his legs twitching as he squirmed in place. “g-ghk…” It felt wrong. His body wanted to get rid of it just as much as he did, but that wasn’t an option.

His magic was already expanding to cushion it inside him, bringing it to rest in a ghostly sac settled over where Sans’s spine met his pelvis. One of Gaster’s extra hands felt over the sac.

“Good, you’re accepting it. This should go smoothly.”

The machine made a noise like a cough, and another egg started rolling down the tube, followed by several more this time. They clumped together as they rolled to the tip.

“w...w-wait i-i c-can’t stretch th-that w-wide…”

Gaster actually looked surprised, then he smirked.

“What makes you say that? Have you done this before?”

“wh..no! n-no i j...i _can't_!”

Gaster shrugged.

“You don’t think I haven’t considered your small frame? I want this to work as much as you do.”

The second egg was squeezing into him, and, once it pushed through, the next few eggs followed rapidly. Three eggs were pushing into him at once, stretching his walls tight against the bones of his pelvis, then shooting into the sac to join the first egg. Sans cried out in alarm and pain, his breathing starting to pick up again.

“wh-why me?!” Sans blurted, leaning his head back to look at the doctor, “why me?! anyone else w-would’ve been a b-better candidate for this!”

The doctor’s face melted into a gruesome expression he couldn’t identify.

“Perhaps I didn’t like the way you looked at me when you passed me in the hallways, Sans.”

His hands were stroking over Sans’s new womb, easing the ache in the stretched magic.

“Perhaps I didn’t appreciate how you were obviously avoiding shifts with me.”

Another two eggs were fighting to enter Sans, clogged at the tip of the depositor. A floating hand jiggled the machine, loosing them so they slid inside Sans. Sans made a choked, gargling noise.

“Perhaps this is my way of punishing you. Asgore told me to experiment with the Underground’s condemned. So I condemned you.”

“ _ghhh_ …” Sans panted, feeling sweat starting to condense around his forehead, “wh-what...y..y-you m..m-made me n-nervous...”

Gaster bent over so his face was inches from Sans’s, bracing two hands on Sans’s shoulders. Another two eggs slipped into Sans’s opening.

“And how about now?”

“ _nnh..._ ghk...i th-think i-i’m j-justified…” Sans said weakly, trying to instinctively spread his legs wider.

Gaster stayed bent, but raised his gaze to stare at Sans’s midsection. The magic grew to accommodate each egg, shifting and bubbling with effort. He gave the ghostly flesh an appreciative pet.

“‘Nervous’ is understandable, Sans. That’s nothing new down here, but your behavior towards me was unacceptable.”

He looked down at Sans again.

“I am your superior. You work under me. If I make you nervous, that’s only right. You should be toeing the line with me, bowing to my authority.”

A hand rubbed the sore lips of Sans’s vagina, encouraging the entry of the next eggs.

“Not avoiding me, not trying to crack jokes behind my back to the other assistants. You think I’ve never heard you whisper to Dr. Alphys as I pass by? Poor time for your humor, Sans.”

“h-hhfff...ngh... _ah!_ ” Sans’s weak body jerked as another clump was forced in, “ghkk…” He’d say ‘sorry’ if he didn’t think that would be a waste of the oxygen he was currently using. Deep gasps of air were the only thing distracting him from the growing tightness in his womb.

Gaster’s brow furrowed.

“You asked me a question and I gave you an answer, Sans. Is that how you respond?”

Sans felt the depositor jostle as another group of eggs fell through the tube and hit his opening. Gaster changed the controls so the machine was back to a quicker pace, shooting the eggs inside one at a time.

“ _gah!_ n-no i-!” Sans’s breathing started to pick up, “ _can't f-!”_ His body shuddered, and he started hyperventilating, although he fought to control it.

The hands holding Sans’s SOUL were back to stroking it, slowing Sans’s breathing. The sudden change made him hiccough.

“Shh. All right. No more talking. We’re halfway through already. You’re doing fine.”

“h-hhf...h-half…?” Did that mean fifteen or thirty?

Gaster kept petting Sans’s face, leaning over his head as if he were cradling him.

“Shh, shh shh. Almost there.”

The machine jerked into him, spitting another two eggs inside. They piled with the rest, pressing hard against the walls of magic.

“h...h-hurts…” Sans whimpered.

“You’re all right. You’re fine.”

The hands petting over Sans’s womb began to stretch and mold it, making it wider for the next three eggs to fit in.

“ _uh_...n-ngh...n..d-doc p-please..”

“Please what, Sans?”

Another egg slid in slowly, sticking a little at Sans’s opening before being shoved in by the next eggs breaking through.

“ _gghhhhhtell me we’re done t-tell me we’re done!_ ”

Gaster rubbed Sans’s face.

“We’re not done, Sans. Six more.”

The next egg was slower, stopping at the lip of the depositor. The machine’s thrusting motions only managed to push it forward inch by inch.

“hhhff...i c-c-can’t…”

Enough hands materialized over Sans’s body to stroke him fully, the hands on his magic kneading the womb soothingly.

“Look how well you’ve done so far.”

The same egg finally got inside Sans’s opening, but it obstructed the next eggs. It sat where it was, sticking out of Sans like a bubble about to pop.

“ngh…” Sans instinctively wriggled his hips, grunting as the egg was guided in. He gave a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. “mmph...”

“Good, Sans. Five more.”

The next two eggs entered as one, clogging next to each other inside the opening of the cunt. Sans tried the same trick again, but it wasn’t successful.

“hh...h-help…”

Gaster tilted Sans’s face up to look at him.

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

Sans directed his gaze between his legs, “w-won’t...f-fit…”

Gaster moved his thumbs in circles over Sans’s cheeks as his other hands supported Sans’s back and raised his hips, tilting his body so the depositor was aiming downward into him.

“Try it again.”

Sans took in a breath and pushed his hips up, groaning and resting his head back as the eggs slid in. “nhhg...” This was ending up being more work for him than it should have been.

“Good. Good job. Three left.”

The last three rolled down the tube too fast, hitting Sans hard enough that it felt like a punch. He cried out, back arching and torso twisting as he panted, “ _ghfuck!_  h-hhh..f-fuck h….h-how m-many…?”

“Three, Sans.”

“s...s-so i-i’m d-done…?”

Gaster rubbed a hand up and down Sans’s spine.

“They’re not fully inside you yet.”

The hands holding Sans pushed his hips upward to jostle the eggs, but they were still caught in the opening.

“ _nah!_  d-d-doc th-that h-hurts…”

“Relax. They’ll fit. You could fit much more than this.”

The machine was turned up another setting, and suddenly the tip of the depositor was jamming into Sans at a crushing pace. He screamed, throwing his head back and scratching frantically at his bindings. _“doctor please please s-stop it stop please!”_

The hands over Sans’s body took a firm hold of him. Gaster gripped Sans’s face to look at him again.

“Shh, sh sh, it’s okay. It’s okay. Look at me.”

Sans’s eyelights flickered towards the doctor’s melting face, the tiny white lights nearly invisible.

Gaster’s face faded in and out.

“Good boy. That’s right. Here we go, just relax…”

Sans blacked out. When his senses shuttered back on, Gaster’s words were a mess of sounds for half of a second.

Fuck, he was dying. “d...d-doc…” He wheezed, his voice fading.

“-oodboy, such a good boy. That’s it. That’s thirty. You did a good job, Sans.”

Sans’s vision clearing was almost a disappointment. Gaster’s gloppy smile was his reward for survival.

“-ssed out for a moment there.” Gaster’s voice was becoming clearer as well. “There you are. See me? You’re a good boy.”

“o-oh g-god…” Sans checked his HP, which was fluctuating but, nonetheless, staying above zero. He felt heavy. And sick. “oh g-god…”

Gaster pet Sans’s body in long strokes.

“Shhh.”

The depositor was being tugged. At first Sans thought it would be pulled out, but it was only readjusted.

“Shhh, there. It’s okay. Good boy. We’ll give you a rest to let you heal, before we do the second half.”

Sans’s eyes snapped open, “no…”

He heard a rustling, and looked over at the IV bag to see some of Gaster’s hands preparing to inject it with more of the sedative.

“d-doc no, w-wait, i c...i c-c-can’t do s-sixty i c-can’t do it i n-nearly _died_ j-just now i can’t do it, _please!_ ”

The hands with the sedative paused. Gaster looked sideways at Sans’s face.

“Is there something you want to say to me, Sans?”

Sans shut his eyes, “...i...i w-want you t-to fuck me…”

Gaster wore an expression of mock shock.

“Sans! So crude.”

“p-please d-doc i w..i w-want it...i w-want it bad, p-please…”

Gaster tipped Sans’s chin up, looking down at him fondly, his eyebrows stitching up.

“How disgusting. You can’t even control yourself.”

He dipped his head closer.

“Ask me to make love to you, Sans, and I’ll consider it.”

Sans swallowed, forcing himself to look the doctor in the eyes, “m...m-make l-love to m-me...p-please…”

Gaster’s smile drew up in a cruel sneer, but when he leaned down he merely kissed San’s sweaty forehead, brushing his brow with the back of a hand.

“That’s much better.”

Sans heard the IV sway again. The hands had injected the sedative.

“When you’ve healed, we’ll have to make a point to celebrate your first pregnancy.”

_First._

Sans shuddered, “y...y-yes doc…”

Sans went under to the feeling of Gaster’s tongue entering his mouth, slime sticking wherever he licked. Everything went black.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: rape, oviposition, fuck machine, forced pregnancy, piss, egg, traumatic piercing, egg
> 
> -
> 
> me and Lucy brainstorming this fic together:
> 
> Lucy: you have a thing for fuck machines too germ
> 
> McLeech: i mean who doesnt tho
> 
> Lucy: ^ true


End file.
